


Violon d'Ingres

by hazelandglasz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Classical Music, Fluff, M/M, Musical References, Musicians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 13:44:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2430992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is a struggling street musician in Beacon Hills, but he has a spot that always works. Imagine his surprise when a violinist in a wolf mask shows up and steals it. And worst of all, he doesn’t even seem to be doing it for money. Meanwhile Derek, a renowned violinist, just wants to get away from the constant scrutiny of the orchestral world. He finds release in anonymity, playing on the streets. His peace gets interrupted constantly, by an annoyingly loud guitar on the other side of the park. </p><p>As Stiles struggles to figure out the ‘Violin Wolf’ ‘s identity, he meets Derek at a coffee shop. What follows can only be described as an epic love story filled with mistaken identity, angst and ultimately, beautiful music.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Violon d'Ingres

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this beautiful [photoset](http://cryodreams.tumblr.com/post/98232722937/au-street-musicians-stiles-is-a-struggling)
> 
> I just couldn't resist ^^

"Derek, you can't just walk away, we made a commitment!"

Laura's voice echoes in the hallway, but Derek is already walking away for the Symphony's director's office.

Who happens to be her older sister.

"Derek!"

With a sigh, he turns on his heels to face her. The only sign of her emotional state is the strand of hair coming free from her severe braid crown. "I need a break, Lau'," he says softly, his fingers clutching the strap of his violin's box, slung over his shoulder. "I need--I need to find the joy again."

Laura sighs and cups his cheek in a familiar gesture of affection. "Then go," she says with a fond sigh. "I'll cover for you while you need it."

"You will?"

She lightly smacks his shoulder, her lips stretched into a smirk. "Hey, don't forget who taught you in the first place, kid."

Derek smiles, ducking his head. "How could I ever forget?" he asks before pulling her into a one-arm hug. "Thank you."

She returns the hug in a full-bear mode. "Come back when you like playing again," she whispers in his ear.

Pressing a kiss to her cheek, Derek stays silent before walking away.

As he exits the Beacon Hills Symphonic Concert Hall, he already feels lighter--in the mood for some [Bach](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B56njjw1qtk), all of a sudden, and Derek has a feeling that he could do just that right here.

... Well maybe not right here, but just in the streets, or maybe the park.

Derek looks up at the skies--clear, blue sky, a couple of cottony clouds, a perfect weather--and he starts marching.

His plans involve him stopping at the coffee shop before finding a little spot in the park to just reconnect with his Kinur.

But as some people look at him--no, gawk at him, he realizes that he's not as inconspicuous as he thought.

He'll have to find a mask--or something.

\-----

 Stiles knows what his strengths are.

He knows that he can play the guitar more than decently; that he knows how to put his own spin on most of the Top 40 songs; that he is cute enough to double his tips on a sunny but windy day.

He may not be famous or a rockstar, but he earns his rent and grocery money by playing in the park.

Then again, that's because he has  _his_  spot: not too close to the doors of the park that the passersby can't hang out while he plays, not too close to the playground that the children screaming would cover his music, but not too far that the parents can't leave their kids for a moment to listen to him--and give him their money.

It's just what he needs for now, until some big shot spots him and turns him into the next, brunet Ed Sheeran.

But this morning, his spot is taken and that just won't do.

Adding insult to the injury, the guy who is wearing a Beast--or is it a wolf's?--mask plays the violin and he's good.

So good, like Stiles wants to sit and listen to him for the rest of the day.

He recognizes the music--a piece by Bach, usually played by the whole strings section--and the ... the ... "Violin Wolf", as Stiles decides to call him, infuses many emotions in it, at least that's how Stiles hears it: freedom, happiness, nostalgia too.

But as much as Stiles enjoys the man's talent, eargasms are not going to pay for his weekly grocery shopping, and Stiles starts walking away. He can find another good spot, right? But really, he thinks as he settles on the other side of the fountain, what a waste of a good spot if the guy is not even going to accept the money offered by the passersby.

\---

Derek starts making a transition between Bach to Bruch--a couple just walked by with a baby in a stroller and it made him think of his parents, for some reason--when a guitar starts messing with his rhythm.

He tries to locate the origin of the noise--no, let's be fair, the music--and he quickly finds it.

His first interest goes to the music itself--he can recognize the original song, under the [acoustic arrangement](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JDgKBEewvss)\--and it is a brilliant display of craftsmanship.

Then his eyes leave the strings to follow the fingers plucking them--long, graceful, fast--up to their owner. The guitarist seems young, but there is something deep in his voice belying his youthful appearance. For a moment, Derek remembers his father and his own talent with pencils, and he smiles fondly as he thinks that his father would have covered pages upon pages of the young man as he plays.

\---

For weeks, the two men repeat the pattern, interrupting each other's performances but being too easily seduce by the Music they're making to protest.

That being said, Stiles wants to know who is hidden behind the mask. on his way out of the park for his lunch break, he even leaves a message at the Violin Wolf's feet.

"Who are you, man?", scribbled in red ink on a piece of paper.

Which earned him nothing of course, except a 10 dollar bill in his case and a nod of the wolf's muzzle.

It's not just his natural curiosity that is poking at his mind: there is something ... seductive, in the way Violin Wolf plays now. Oh, the nostalgia that Stiles heard in the first piece is still here, but it comes out with a layer of fondness now, making Stiles wistful for more.

For a face to look at while he'd talk about music and emotions and string plucking--and other things.

Because the truth is that even though he doesn't know who is the man behind the mask, who is the man making poetry come alive with his violin, Stiles can feel his heart beating faster when he sees him, his lips stretching into an open smile when he passes him by, and he can feel his neck turning hotter and redder as he senses the man's gaze on him.

Yes, he has a crush on someone he has not even seen the face, and he feels pathetic enough as it is.

Who gets ... feelings, for someone because of the way they move their bow back and forth and oh, my God, this sounds a little bit too perverted, even in his own mind.

Anyway, it's ridiculous, and all Stiles needs is to get laid or date or whatever.

And that's when he meets Derek.

\----

Derek is taking a warming break at the coffee shop, wolf mask carefully tucked in the inner pocket of his jacket while he stays in line when the bell above the door rings and he absentmindedly looks at the newcomer, before doing a double take.

Because it's the Guitarist (yes, he has earned his capital letter at this point) and he looks even more ... enticing from up-close.

"It will be 6.45, sir," the cashier says, and Derek looks away from the man who has his eyes firmly on the pastry display. 

"I'll pay for whatever he's having," he tells the cashier, nodding towards the Guitarist.

The guy looks up now, eyes wide as he stares at Derek with an unbelieving smile, and all Derek can do is smile and bow his head before taking his own drink to a table in a corner.

Only for the free chair in front of him to be pulled only a moment later.

"Thank you."

Derek looks away from his book and dives head first in two pools of amber. "You're, um, you're welcome."

"I'm Stiles," the Guitarist says before plucking a much too big piece of blueberry scone.

"Derek," he replies, taking a sip of his drink. Stiles smiles with his mouth full, his cheeks bulging like a hamster for a moment and Derek hides his smile behind his cup.

Derek's Kinur is in its case, leaning against Derek's leg, and Stiles seems to be drawn to it immediately, eyes sparkling with interest.

"You play?" he asks, nonchalantly, but Derek isn't fooled so easily.

He knows that Stiles is curious about him, about his identity, but he has found so much peace in his anonymity that he doesn't want to let go of it so easily.

"Nah, I'm just safe-keeping for a friend," he replies and Stiles' eyebrows climb to his hairline.

Something akin to a brief disappointment passes over his face, quickly set aside for more curiosity. Derek appreciates the quick succession of emotions just as much as he appreciates Stiles' personal style of musicality.

"Must be one hell of a friend," Stiles simply comments, looking at Derek with dark eyes.

Derek huffs a laugh and nods. "My best friend," he replies truthfully. After all, if he has learned one thing about himself in the past few weeks spent with himself and his violin,  it is that he is his own best friend and that he deserves to cut himself some slack.

"Now, this felt pretty good," Stiles says, wiping his hands on a napkin, his eyes never leaving Derek, "but how could I possibly thank you for this feast?"

Derek wants to say that no thanks are necessary. He wants to say that he heard Stiles playing and this is more him thanking Stiles than the other way around.

He wants to say all of this, but the sudden darkness in Stiles' eyes makes him hungry for something else, something he has deprived himself from for maybe far too long.

"How indeed," he says, letting his fingers tap the edge of his cup.

Without a word being exchanged, Derek finds himself, not even ten minutes later, with his back against the wall of an alley nearby and with Stiles' tongue down his throat.

And he can only wrap his arms around Stiles' neck to get him closer.

\---

Stiles doesn't know who the Wolf Violin is.

All he knows is that he has Derek, and Derek has him wrapped around his fingers, and the Wolf still plays, but now, he's positively giddy, his range switching from Bach and Brahms to Saint-Saëns and Tchaikovsky.

Oh, Tchaikovsky, in the Wolf's hands ... even as the man plays by himself, Stiles feels like he's listening to a full orchestra.

If only he could get Derek to listen to the Wolf, maybe he would understand. Then again, Stiles knows that Derek is friend with the violinist, so he must have heard him play already.

"Would you arrange a meeting with him?" he asks one night, while Derek's head is on his naked chest and his own fingers playing with the short hair on the nape of his neck.

"Hm?"

"A meeting--with your friend the Wolf."

Derek snorts a laugh that sends shiver down Stiles' body. "You're fanboying so hard over him," he murmurs and Stiles pulls on his hair. "Ow--alright, alright," he says, his hand cupping the curve of Stiles' hip. "i'll--I'll see what I can do."

\---

It's time.

Time be honest with Stiles about who he is, time to put the mask to rest.

And maybe time to introduce Stiles to Laura.

\---

Stiles can't contain his excitement, practically vibrating with it, and Derek laughs before kissing his temple.

"i can't believe you got us an in into the Orchestra's rehearsals," Stiles whispers and Derek hums along. "I heard that Laura Hale is pretty strict with her privacy since she had to take over for her brother--but it's just so amazing to think that her brother and the Wolf are one and the same!"

Derek stiffens at that but if Stiles had even the incipit of a doubt about Derek's true identity, he would have said something already.

"Here, take a seat," he tells Stiles, discretely taking his violin case and his mask. "I'll just make sure that everything is okay."

Stiles puckers his lips for a kiss with a little whine and Derek goes for it willingly.

As he walks towards the stage, Derek wonders with a lurch in his stomach if it will be the last one.

\---

Derek is walking on stage like he has always lived there and Stiles frowns at his boyfriend. Then something falls from Derek's hand as he opens the violin case and Stiles stands up to come closer.

His heart skips a beat--or two--or three--when he recognizes it.

The Wolf mask.

"Derek?" Stiles says softly, but Derek doesn't seem to hear him, his attention going to the musicians entering the stage one by one, filling the strings section and five or six in the middle, armed with flutes and recorders.

At last, a woman, barely older than Derek, enters the stage, a stick in her hand and a smile on her face as she walks in front of Derek. Stiles' eyes go to him, to his back turned towards Stiles, to his stance, and how could he mistakes it for anything else?

For anyone else?

"You're him," he whispers, and Derek turns his head a little to the left, his profile nodding at Stiles before he looks back at--Laura?, Stiles guesses and she taps her stick to get the musicians' attention.

"Steady, fellows, let's welcome Derek back properly," she says and immediately, bows are at the ready.

Stiles slowly takes a seat, closer to the front, his eyes never leaving Derek.

\---

He has picked the piece like something obvious--how could he reveal himself to Stiles without revealing his feelings?--and mailed it to Laura in the same heartbeat to make sure that she would get the Strings ready for him.

Now it's time to get on with the program, and Derek has to will his hand not to shake as he places the bow on the string.

_Come on, Kinur, time to rise and shine_

>>  ** _Press play_** https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p7B97p7GDpU

The haunting melody awakens under his fingers, like he himself has awakened under Stiles' pressure, his guitar acting like a challenger for his instrument, making him reconnect with it day after day even before they met.

Then the orchestra joins in, supporting Derek, following his lead and enhancing his own performance at the same time, and something unclenches in his gut.

Yes, it was time to go home, no matter what happens with Stiles.

Oh God, he hopes that he won't lose Stiles.

As the bassoons take over for a moment, Derek slowly turns on the balls of his feet to look at him, finding him only two rows from the stage and with one hand covering his mouth.

In for a penny ...

Derek rolls his head from side to side before placing the violin back under his chin to play the crescendo, his eyes never leaving Stiles.

Not now, not when the emotions are so close to the surface of his skin he can feel them in every note.

As the piece comes to an end, the whole section playing the last notes with him, Stiles stands up, hands buried in his pockets, and starts walking away.

"Stiles!"

Derek comes out of his trance and walks down the steps separating the crowd from the stage to follow him.

"I'm not breaking up with you," Stiles says, not looking at Derek. "I just--I need time to process all this."

"Alright," Derek whispers, a knot in his throat, probably too low for Stiles to hear him.

\---

For the next couple of days, the only thing that keeps Derek from rushing to the park to explain himself is Stiles' parting words.

_I'm not breaking up with you_

Derek hangs on to these words and stays at Laura's, reconnecting with her just like he reconnected with his instrument and himself, telling her the whole "Park and Mask" story.

And finally, after 50 hours without any sign of life from him, Derek receives a message from Stiles.

_Take your violin and meet me in MY spot at the park tomorrow morning_

And a minute later

_If you want of course_

Derek knows Stiles' schedule, he knows that for him, morning at the park means 10.25am. 

The next morning, he's at Stiles' spot at 10 o'clock, two cups of coffee (including Stiles' usual order) in a bag next to him on the bench.

Stiles arrives with an unreadable look on his face, his guitar strapped to his back as usual. He sits next to Derek and he still doesn't say anything.

"I didn't mean to lie to you," Derek finally says to break the silent, painfully aware that he is turning the tables on their habits.

"I know."

"I really love you."

Stiles huffs a laugh, but it's void of bitterness and it fills Derek with hope. "I know, you big romantic. Beethoven, really?"

Derek lets out a relieved laugh. "What, you would have preferred Tchaikovsky? Bartok?"

"Yeah, Bartok, make you hurt for it," Stiles says with an eye roll, knocking his knee against Derek's thigh. "No, I have a better idea."

That's when he pulls a folded piece of paper from his pocket, giving it to Derek before softly pulling his guitar to his lap. "Wanna give it a try, big guy?"

Derek reads the music sheet quickly, before letting his eyes return to the top of the sheet, his brain finally processing the name of the piece.

"Cantabile for violin and guitar?" he reads, looking at Stiles who has his fingers ready on his instrument.

"It's perfect for us, isn't it?" Stiles says softly. "Because I love you too, Derek, Wolf Violin, both and neither, I don't really care, as long as we can play," he adds, voice catching in his throat before dropping to a murmur, "make music and make love."

Derek captures Stiles' face between his hands to kiss him before letting go to take his violin out of its case.

"Let's see for the music first," he finally tells Stiles with a smirk. "We'll see for the love later."

>> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ctHQMqiEZEY


End file.
